Annie's View
by sniggles
Summary: President Bartlet's granddaughter's point of view on some things.


I don't own them. The Evil Geniuses do.  
  
No one has ever really written a story about Annie, and what she thinks, so... I'm stepping up to the plate. No wisecracks, people.  
  
  
  
"Annie's View"  
by Rebecca A. Anderson  
beckyannea@twilightmail.com  
March 2001  
  
  
  
"Annie, you got a package in the mail," Mom says from the kitchen as I come in the door from piano practice. "I put it on your bed."  
  
"Okay, Mom. What's for dinner?" I yell as I climb the stairs to my bedroom.  
  
"I thought we'd have steak and fajita fries, and salad," Mom replies.  
  
"Okay, that sounds good," I call over the rail, and then I go into my room. A medium-sized box is sitting on top of my covers. Oh, I wonder what it is! I bet Nana bought me something while she was in Japan!  
  
I take my scissors out of my desk drawer and slice open the tape on the box. It doesn't have a return address, but that's okay - packages from Nana rarely do. She likes to 'fly under the radar'.  
  
I open the flaps, and take out some of the crumpled newspaper that lies in the top. There's some kind of doll in here... I see the back of the head and torso. I pull it out and flip it over.  
  
"AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I drop the Raggedy Ann doll and run down the stairs, screaming.  
  
Mom catches me as I stumble and fall down the last two steps. "Whoa, baby, what is it, what's wrong?" she asks, holding me as I continue to scream hysterically.  
  
Oh my God, who are these people?  
  
Who would do such a thing?  
  
My mind is a riotous jumble of thoughts, and I continue screaming. Mommy is rocking me back and forth, whispering for me to hush, that everything is okay.  
  
How can everything be okay when I just got a doll in the mail with a knife stuck in its throat? What did I ever do to deserve that?  
  
I finally stop screaming when my voice gives out. And even then, I still cling to my mommy like I'm a baby. I'm scared - I'll never admit it out loud, but I am scared. Someone hates me so much for something that they would...  
  
"Annie, baby, tell me what's wrong?" Mommy whispers. "What is it?"  
  
"A doll," I croak. "Someone sent me a doll."  
  
"What, is it a bad doll?"  
  
"It had a knife in its throat," I whisper.  
  
Mommy's face goes white and she lets go of me and races up the stairs - I guess to see for herself. Moments later, from my room, I hear her crying. She comes out, tears streaming down her cheeks, and walks down the stairs stiffly. She picks up the phone and dials.  
  
"I'd like to speak to President Bartlet. It's his daughter, Elizabeth. It's an emergency," she says, her voice low and fighting for control. I move to hold her hand, and I bury my head in her shoulder.  
  
Who would hate me so much?  
  
"Daddy," she says. "It's Lizzie. What's wrong? It's Annie..."  
  
I didn't do it... I didn't do anything to hurt anyone!  
  
"She got a package from... The Lambs of God," she whispers, choking on her tears as she begins to cry again.  
  
I take the phone from her, and say, "Grandpa?"  
  
"Annie, honey, are you okay? What was in the package?" he asks anxiously.  
  
"I'm okay, I think... I'm scared," I finally admit. It's okay to tell Grandpa you're scared, because he understands. He knows all about being scared.  
  
"Okay, honey, what was in the package?" he asks again.  
  
"A doll."  
  
"A doll?"  
  
"A Raggedy Ann doll."  
  
"Annie, do I have to come up to New Hampshire and drag it out of you?" He sounds angry and worried, and scared all at once. He only shouts at me when he's really scared.  
  
"It had a knife... in its neck," I finally choke out.  
  
"It had a knife in its throat?" he repeats in something akin to disbelief. "A Raggedy Ann doll with a knife in its throat?"  
  
"Yes," I whisper.  
  
"Someone sent you a Raggedy Ann doll with a knife in its throat?" he repeats.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"The Lambs of God sent this to you?"  
  
"That's what Mommy says, sir."  
  
"Don't sir me," he snaps. "Dear God in heaven..."  
  
"It's because I'm your granddaughter, isn't it?" I ask quietly, as Mom stops crying. "It's because I'm the President's granddaughter," I say with certainty.  
  
"No, baby, don't ever think that," Mommy whispers, hugging me.  
  
"Annie," Grandpa says gently, "if anything, this is my fault."  
  
"Tell him there was a note," Mommy says.  
  
"There was?" I ask her. I didn't know there was a note... I just saw the doll, and the knife, and...  
  
"Here, let me have the phone," she instructs. I hand it over, and she says, "Dad, there was a note. From the Lambs of God. Saying that my baby condones murder, because she spoke about a woman's right to choose."  
  
Oh my God...  
  
No, they can't think...  
  
No...  
  
Oh God, no...  
  
"Daddy... what are we going to do?" Mom asks.  
  
I don't know, Mommy... I don't know.  
  
I won't talk to anyone again. How's that for a start? I'll never give anymore interviews, I'll never talk in class again, I'll stay home...  
  
I just don't want this to happen again.  
  
It's because of who my grandfather is.  
  
If Grandpa was anyone else, these Lambs of God people wouldn't care who I was or what I said! But just because my Grandpa is the President of the United States... They think...  
  
I want it to stop.  
  
I go upstairs and pick up the doll. I am disgusted by the desecration of such a beautiful doll. I'm disgusted by the whole thing.  
  
And I'm angry.  
  
And scared.  
  
And I want the world to know it.  
  
I carry the doll and the knife back downstairs with me, and, while Mom is still talking to Grandpa, I pull the knife out of the doll's neck.  
  
I get my sewing kit, the one I use in home economics at school, out of the living room, and I thread a needle, and set to work, sewing up the torn hole in the doll's throat. It's a little thing, but it's something I can do to keep from being so angry, and scared, and...  
  
Mom is still talking to Grandpa when I finish, and I cut a handkerchief out of red gingham. I fold it into a triangle, and I knot it around the doll's neck like a scarf.  
  
There.  
  
Almost as good as new.  
  
If only I was.  
  
"Annie, sweetheart, Grandpa wants to talk to you again," Mommy says, handing me the phone.  
  
"Hi," I say, fighting to keep my voice unemotional. I don't want to upset Grandpa. He has enough to think about.  
  
"You've been awfully quiet while your mom and I've been talking," Grandpa says.  
  
"Yeah... I was fixing the doll. She's really pretty if you ignore the scarf..."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I stitched her neck shut again, and made a scarf to cover it up."  
  
"Oh... Annie..."  
  
"I'm going to keep her. As a reminder."  
  
"A reminder?"  
  
"To be careful of what I say."  
  
"Annie, you shouldn't have to worry about that," he says, his voice barely controlled.  
  
"Grandpa, it's okay. I'm okay."  
  
"It is not okay, young lady. Your mom is going to pull you out of school for a week, and you're going to come down to Washington for a visit. And we're going to set you up with some people to keep an eye on the mail, okay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"We won't send in a Secret Service team unless we have to, I promise."  
  
"Good - because having Agents would really cramp my style," I tease.  
  
"You sound like your aunt."  
  
"Yeah, well, Zoey and I are like sisters, you turkey."  
  
"Yeah, you're okay. I'll see you in a couple of days, okay? Go on and go watch some television or something."  
  
"TV rots your brain, Grandpa, 'member?"  
  
"Go read the Dante I got you for Christmas, then."  
  
"'Kay. I love you," I say quietly.  
  
"I love you, too, Annie. See you in a couple of days."  
  
"Yup."  
  
I hand Mommy the phone again and head into the living room, where I feel safe. I won't be going back into my bedroom except to change clothes for a while. I'll sleep on the couch down here.  
  
I sink into the recliner and think.  
  
I love my Grandpa with all of my heart, and I would never do anything to hurt him. And he loves me. Nothing will ever change that.  
  
People will hate me because they hate him.  
  
They can't separate me from him.  
  
But we are two different people.  
  
And I will always remember that from now on.  
  
Now, to look forward to my visit to Washington....  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I feel the tips of my ears and my cheeks burning as I blush. "Yeah, Tommy Murphy is cute," I finally mumble.  
  
"Annie likes Tommy!" my best friend, Denise, giggles.  
  
"How can you like him?" Alix asks in disgust. "He's got acne!"  
  
"So do you," Denise points out.  
  
"Oh, hush," Alix says, smacking Neese over the head with a magazine.  
  
"Girls, come on downstairs, so Annie can open up her presents!" Mom yells from the living room.  
  
It's my birthday. My thirteenth birthday! I can't believe I'm a teenager - finally. I want to get out of teenagerdom and move on to being an adult already!  
  
See, everyone says my impatience is my greatest failing.  
  
Oh well.  
  
"C'mon, Annie," Denise says, dragging me out of my room and down the stairs, Alix on our heels. We do the customary jump the last three steps, and fly into the living room.  
  
"Gee, is there a herd of elephants in here?" Mom asks with a laugh. Mom is so cool - she let me have a sleep-over with my two best friends in the world tonight, and when I told her I didn't want to open presents until midnight, she said it was okay.  
  
"Nope," we chime, looking at each other and giggling insanely.  
  
"Sit down, girls," Mom instructs. We all sit down on the couch, and she hands me a box. "This is from..."  
  
"Me!" Alix interjects.  
  
"...Alix," Mom finishes with a chuckle.  
  
I rip the wrapping paper off and fight with the box beneath - that is taped shut. Alix has this obsession with scotch tape, packing tape, cellophane tape, any kind of tape. "Scissors!" I finally cry, poking Alix in the ribs with my finger. "I require scissors!"  
  
Mom hands me a pair she had at the ready. She knows about Lexy's obsession.  
  
I slice the box open and pull out a beautiful ceramic figurine of a bald eagle, it's wings outstretched over the American flag that it holds in its claws. "'Cause your Grandpa is President," Lexy explains, blushing.  
  
"Oh, how cool is that!" Denise yelps, leaning over to look at it closer.  
  
"I love it... I'll put it on my desk," I promise, hugging her. "But ya gotta lay off the tape, sweetie!"  
  
"I know, I know," Lexy sighs, rolling her eyes.  
  
Mom smiles and hands me a bag. "This is from Denise."  
  
"See, Mrs. Douglass, I don't interrupt," Denise says smugly, sticking her tongue out at Lexy. We've been friends for so long that none of this stuff hurts us.  
  
I root through the bag, finally coming up with a card and a perfume set from Bath and Body Works. The card has a gift certificate to Barnes and Noble in it. A $150 gift certificate, nonetheless!  
  
"Wow, Neese, thanks!" I gasp. "I wanted to get that new biography of Nana - gotta see what the people have to say about her."  
  
"Great, now you can!" Lexy says, clapping her hands.  
  
"Honey, this is from me," Mom says, handing me a beautifully wrapped box.  
  
I pull out a quilt. A beautiful purple and gold quilt for my bed. I jump up and hug Mom. She knows how much I love her, so I don't have to say thank you beyond the hug.  
  
"And your Grandpa and Nana sent something, too," Mom says with a smile. "It's on the dining room table."  
  
We rush into the dining room, me, desperate to see my present, and the others, wanting to see what I had gotten from the most powerful Grandparents in the world.  
  
Oh my God!  
  
No! They didn't!  
  
My grandparents gave me the silver tea service. The one made by Paul Revere! The silver tea cups, teapot, saucers... everything!  
  
"Here," Mommy says, handing me an envelope.  
  
I pull out the card and read the note.  
  
"Annie, this is for you on the eve of your ascent into adulthood. This has been in the family since before the American Revolution, and we trust you will take good care of it, so you can give it to your granddaughter, and tell her the story that goes with it. Love on your birthday, and always, Nana and Grandpa."  
  
I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, and I do nothing to stop them.  
  
I've never had a better birthday in my life.  
  
Never.  
  
Mommy brings out the cheesecake and ice cream, and we all start pigging out - not eating off of my silver, mind you, but Mom's china.  
  
The phone rings.  
  
"I wonder what on earth..." Mom says, picking up. "Elizabeth and Annie Douglass... CJ?" She drops the phone.  
  
"Mommy?" I exclaim, moving to steady her. She looks like she's going to faint... I grab the phone off of the floor, and say, "CJ? What is it? What's going on?"  
  
"Um... Annie, can you put your mom back on the phone?"  
  
"Not until you tell me what's going on!" I shout into the phone, and I can visualize CJ wincing on the other end of the line. When I get angry, and shout, my voice carries even better than Grandpa's - something he's eternally proud of.  
  
"Annie..."  
  
"Don't Annie me," I yell. "Tell me what's going on! Mom just about fainted and..."  
  
"There's been an assassination attempt."  
  
Oh God, no... no, tell me I heard you wrong, CJ... tell me.... Tell me anything but that.  
  
"Oh God, no," I whisper.  
  
"Your Grandpa and Josh are in surgery right now." Her voice sounds cold, almost... I think she's fighting for control as much as Mommy and I are.  
  
What a weird thought at a time like this. I don't know why I'm even thinking.  
  
"What happened?" I ask, not sure I want to know.  
  
"Some boys shot at us as we were leaving the Newseum in Rosslyn, Virginia."  
  
"Is Josh going to be okay?"  
  
She doesn't answer for a long time, and when she does finally answer, her voice is choked with tears. "They don't know, Annie."  
  
"What about Grandpa? Is he okay? Were Nana or Zoey there?" I ask, suddenly horrified and anxious.  
  
"The President was shot in the abdomen, but they think he's going to be fine. Zoey was there, but she's okay - except for puking in the limo."  
  
I laugh insanely. Yup, that's Aunt Zoey for ya...  
  
"It's not funny," she snaps.  
  
"I'm sorry," I reply, keeping my voice soft. "Can I talk to Nana or Aunt Zoey? Please?"  
  
"I have to talk to your mother."  
  
"She's a little busy crying and freaking out at the moment, why don't I have her call you back?" I say sarcastically. "Put my grandmother or aunt on the phone now before I scream at you."  
  
There is a long silence, then Nana's voice. "Annie, sweetheart..."  
  
"Is he really going to be okay?"  
  
"Grandpa is going to be fine," she promises.  
  
"Okay. We were eating my birthday cheesecake, and the ice cream has melted," I complain, playing with the vanilla soup in my bowl.  
  
Nana laughs. "Poor baby," she says gently. "Is your mom up?"  
  
"She's sitting on the floor in shock, crying her eyes out, scaring the crap out of my friends," I say. "I'm surprised you can't hear her over the phone line."  
  
"I'm not... it's a zoo over here. Everyone from the West Wing giving or taking statements, and... oh, God, Annie..." Nana, the only person I would never expect to cry, starts sniffling, as though she's going to start crying.  
  
That triggers something deep inside me, some floodgate I really wanted to stay shut, and I burst into tears, my hands shaking as they hold the phone. Lexy and Neese stare at each other before wrapping me in their arms, holding me close. They know how much I need the support - I never cry.  
  
But Nana and I cry our hearts out together, on a lone telephone line in the middle of the night.  
  
Mommy finally stops crying and takes the phone from me, shooing me into the other room. Lexy and Neese help me into the living room, where I turn on the television in a daze, and flip over to CNN.  
  
I watch in horror as they show the place where they had been... Grandpa and Zoey, Josh and Charlie, CJ and Sam, Uncle Leo and Toby... It's chaos. Absolute chaos.  
  
Oh, God...  
  
Please let Grandpa and Josh be okay.  
  
I can't live without Grandpa.  
  
And who would call me 'L'il Squirt', if Josh is gone? Who'd give me noogies? I mean, Sam does the noogies, but it's not the same as Josh...  
  
Denise holds one of my hands, Alix the other. And we watch the newscasts all night long in silence, me drawing strength from them.  
  
Mom comes out of the dining room eventually, off the phone at last, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. She sits down on the couch, and says, "Nana wants us to come down the day after tomorrow."  
  
I merely nod.  
  
It's all I can do.  
  
  
  
  
  
Mom and I enter the White House and head for the Residence. She's moving so fast I can hardly keep up, and even the Secret Service detail is having a hard time keeping up with her. "Mommy, slow down!" I beg, but she just moves faster.  
  
Finally, I slow down because I just can't keep up, and two Agents hang back to walk with me, while the others fight to stay with Mom. I take my time getting to the Residence, making small talk with the two Agents with me.  
  
Aunt Zoey is sitting on the couch, waiting for me. She opens her arms and throws them around me. "Hey, kidlet," she murmurs, holding me tightly. "How're you?"  
  
"I'm fine. Are you okay?"  
  
She nods stiffly. I know she's lying, but how can I accuse her directly of that? Simple enough - I can't. "Where's Nana?"  
  
"She's in the bedroom with Dad and Liz."  
  
"I'm gonna go in there, okay?"  
  
Aunt Zoey nods, and I head down the hall. I enter the doorway, and hear Grandpa's weakened voice. "They wanted to kill Zoey and Charlie," he says.  
  
Kill Aunt Zoey?  
  
And Charlie?  
  
Oh my God, no! How... how could they?!  
  
I stand there, gaping, my breath coming in short gasps. Nana looks up from Grandpa, and sees me standing here, a sad look on her face. "C'mere, baby," she says.  
  
I shake my head and back up until I hit the wall and slump over. They wanted to kill Aunt Zoey? And Charlie? Why? Why would anyone do such a thing?  
  
I start to cry, and soon I'm sitting on the floor in the corridor, my knees drawn up to my forehead as I bawl my eyes out. Oh, God, I'm furious! If these men weren't already dead, I would kill them myself!  
  
No, no I wouldn't. I'm better than they are.  
  
I don't hate.  
  
Oh, God, how can I say I don't hate when they just tried to kill my grandfather and Josh? And wanted to kill Zoey and Charlie?!  
  
I hate them.  
  
I'm glad they're dead.  
  
And I hope God sent them straight to Hell.  
  
Nana comes out and pulls me into her arms, letting me cry until I can't cry anymore. She knows, she understands...  
  
"It's going to be okay, Annie," she whispers as I sniffle against her shoulder.  
  
"I ruined your sweater," I mumble.  
  
"It's just a sweater," she replies. "Come on in and see Grandpa. He's worried about you."  
  
He's worried about me? I'm worried about him.  
  
I nod and Nana helps me to my feet, then guides me into the bedroom. Grandpa's lying there on the bed with the curtained canopy, hooked up to a bunch of machines. His skin is pale and clammy looking... He doesn't look good. But then, I don't think I'd be looking too good after nearly being murdered...  
  
"Hey, sweetcheeks," Grandpa says with a weak smile. "C'mere and gimme a hug."  
  
"Watch out for the cords," Nana warns.  
  
I give Grandpa a hug and am very careful of the cords. Mom left right after I came in, to talk to Zoey, probably... "Hi," I tell Grandpa quietly.  
  
"Abbey, can you go outside, please?" Grandpa asks Nana. "I want a little time by myself with Annie."  
  
"Okay," Nana agrees, leaving and closing the door behind her.  
  
"Were you scared?" I can't keep myself from asking Grandpa as soon as she's gone. I know he would never tell me any such thing if Nana were in the room, and for that reason, I'm glad he sent her out.  
  
"Of course I was scared," he says. "I was terrified, Annie. I was scared because I didn't know where Zoey was, I didn't know if she was okay - I didn't know what was going on, who was where... I didn't know anything."  
  
"I hate them."  
  
"Who, sweetie?"  
  
"The people who shot you. I hope they went to Hell."  
  
"No, Annie, never hope that for anyone," Grandpa scolds. "They did do wrong, but it's not our place to judge them. God will do that."  
  
"I'm sorry..."  
  
"It's okay, baby. Know what scared me the most?"  
  
I shake my head.  
  
"I didn't know if I was going to see you or Nana or Lizzie or Ellie or Zoey or anyone else again. And I have so much to tell you all..."  
  
"You got a second chance," I say with a smile.  
  
"Yeah. And I'm gonna tell you how much I love you right now, munchkin, before I keel over and die of a heart attack," he teases, kissing me on the cheek. "I love you so much it hurts."  
  
"I love you, too, Grandpa," I murmur, hugging him again.  
  
We will survive this.  
  
Slowly, we'll pull our lives back together again...  
  
  
  
  
  
I grab the phone, which is ringing like no one's business. Mom went out grocery shopping, and left me at home to do my science homework, which is due on Monday.  
  
"Elizabeth and Annie Douglass..."  
  
"Hi, sweetie."  
  
"Grandpa! I watched the filibuster last night... Stackhouse really had a thing going on there, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes, sweetheart, he did," Grandpa says with an amused chuckle.  
  
I make him laugh when I show any kind of political knowledge. Which is funny, because I want to be President someday. I want to follow Grandpa's footsteps into battle....  
  
"'Sup?" I ask, calculating the mass of a 7 ounce orange.  
  
"I just wanted to call and tell you how much I love you."  
  
I smile and set aside the orange. "How much, Grandpa?" I ask.  
  
"With all of the love this old grandpa can muster," he teases.  
  
In other words, he loves me with all of his heart.  
  
My grandpa loves me so much...  
  
And I love him more.  
  
  
FINIS  



End file.
